


red, red, red, goose!

by ElasticElla



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Background Femslash, Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22946248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Geralt is three seconds away from getting the information off the evil hag about where the bodies are buried- or three seconds from giving him a heart attack.After fighting a thousand and one conjured woodland creatures, Geralt doesn’t give a fuck which it is.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18
Collections: Writing Rainbow Red





	red, red, red, goose!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [infernal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/infernal/gifts).



Geralt is three seconds away from getting the information off the evil hag about where the bodies are buried- or three seconds from giving him a heart attack. After fighting a thousand and one conjured woodland creatures, Geralt doesn’t give a fuck which it is. (Money, he reminds himself, the money comes from locating the boy, alive or dead.)

There’s movement over his shoulder, and Geralt glares down at the mage, tightening his grip around his slender neck. “Drop it.” 

He turns, and there’s a puff of red smoke and everything goes dark. 

.

Geralt wakes up on the outskirts of town, none of the weight from his usual gear- fucking sorcerers. His jaw cracks open stretching too far, and he goes to scratch his chin, only bright white feathers come into view. While he isn’t one to scare easy, the sheer horror of his hands being gone, legs, feet, all of him but his mind has been replaced. For the first time since before he was remade, he screeches. 

Or rather, he tries to, a loud honk coming out. 

The fucking mage turned him into a goddamned goose. 

He’s going to peck their bloody spleen out, chew on his eyeballs and regurgitate it all over his warm corpse and- 

Loud barking interrupts his thoughts, and Geralt is up in the air before he realized he took flight, the dog’s jaws snapping where he just was. Right. He’s sorting out the goose situation and then finding the boy and then making the mage wish he’d never cursed him. Priorities. 

(He takes a dump on the mage’s rooftop as he flies overhead, grimly pleased.)

.

Geralt’s first thought is to go to the dragon- he has a cave relatively close, and he doesn’t trust his new wings to carry him far. But remembering the dog’s sharp teeth, and the all too vulnerable state he’s in, he decides a friendly mage is a much better option. Not that he has a ton of those, really just Yennefer some days and Triss. The djinn magic will bring them together eventually, but Geralt isn’t going to sit on his feathered ass waiting and probably get turned into a pie. 

Triss is the only plausible solution, even if it will take him a few days of flight. 

Ugh, being prey sucks. 

.

Four days later, a most disheveled and mud-caked goose lands in Triss’s home. He’s completely exhausted, it feels like his wings are going to fall off, he’s never been so tired in his whole life. Blearily he looks around, but Triss isn’t home, and he’ll just take a short nap, enough to--

The sun’s set by the time Geralt wakes up, the room chillier. He recognizes voices, head swiveling to the door. Yennefer and Triss walk in, and how fortunate, they’ll certainly be able to fix him. 

“-back to Aretuza.” 

“You didn’t!” Triss exclaims, grinning and clutching Yennefer’s arm. It’s weird, almost flirtatious, not that he has a claim on either- oh. They’re uh, yup definitely together then. 

Geralt stares down at the rug, and this has got to be one of the most awkward moments ever. His ex-lover and ex… crush? It seems such a trite word for Triss, both of the words feel inadequate. His stomach growls, and the noises he’d pointedly not been listening to cease. 

“Oh look darling, dinner.” 

Geralt squawks in a very dignified manner. 

Triss tsks, kneeling down beside him and patting his head. “He’s probably a messenger of some sort.” 

“A messenger goose?” Yennefer snorts, “Shall I make us a fire?” 

Triss swats her leg, “Fine, I want some tea anyways.” 

Oh fuck, oh _fuck_. He’s going to die as a damn bird, and he’s trapped in here. Maybe he’ll be able to get to the door and- 

Yennefer’s hands grasp him surely, picking him up. There’s recognition in those purple eyes, and relief sweeps over him. 

“Hello Goosalt.” 

“Goosalt?” Triss echoes with a laugh. “Should I be jeal- Yen! That’s really him!” 

“Our pet goose I agree-” 

“Yennefer,” Triss drags out her name in a way that’s truly impressive. 

Yen sighs, “Yeah, yeah, okay let’s fix the bastard.”

They’re chanting over him, and in a blink, he’s back to human again, naked as the day he was born, and spitting out feathers. 

“Those fuckers stole my clothes. And sword.” 

Triss hands him a blanket, “Adventures-”

“Problems,” Yennefer mutters under her breath. 

“-wait until morning.” 

And Geralt’s too content with being back to normal again to complain. (It’s already been near a week, if the bastard mage has any sense, he’ll be long gone, his gear sold to some trader.)


End file.
